Stuck in Storybrooke
by Chichaco
Summary: Poor Will! He can't get back to Anastasia, and when Granny catches him with her keys, he's stuck working with Emma and David.
1. Chapter 1

Granny's keys

"Where'd you get those?" Granny's voice hit him like a hammer as he passed her. The sun was just beginning to set behind the dark forest that marked the edge of town, and its rays were scattered here and there among the buildings like rose-fire fingers. Will had just popped out the door of Granny's diner, where he'd nursed his whiskey in a coffee cup for over an hour. His mind had been far away, in another realm, one filled with wonder, and he stumbled absentmindedly down the steps onto the patio. He pulled up short at the sound of her commanding voice, and spun around to meet her steely gaze. Too late he realized he was absentmindedly spinning a keychain around on his finger-a keychain with a tiny pink plastic sneaker and a key attached to it.

"Uhm,' he glanced around, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Found them, right over there, on the ground." He gestured vaguely towards the picket fence. He knew in his heart that his flimsy excuse would not fool the woman for an instant, but his mind was filled with too much whiskey and too many swirling memories of an exquisite blonde queen's pouting lips on his, so it was the best he could come up with.

"You're lying," she hissed, "That key has been missing for over a year." She was facing him down now, out on the sidewalk, and he saw little chance to get past her, so he tried to look as clueless and as innocent as possible. "They disappeared," she continued, stepping closer and shoving an accusatory finger in his face. "The same time I came into the diner one morning to find a huge mess inside. Shattered glass, tables overturned, chairs broken."

He gingerly held out the keys to her. " 'Ere you go then—" he flinched and his eyes widened as she jerked up her crossbow and pointed it straight at his heart. 'Did she carry that bleedin' thing around with her all the time?' he wondered as he stepped back a little. 'Does she fancy herself a bloody merry man or wot?'

"What's going on here?" David and Emma, out on evening patrol, crossed the all but deserted street and strode over to them; David looking expectantly at Granny while Emma fixed her gaze on Will. Her face said it all, she was obviously disgusted to see him.

"She's threatening me life!" Will exclaimed, pointing at Granny, still holding out the keychain.

"He stole my keys!" she growled, her eyes narrowed, her crossbow never wavering.

"Found your keys! Bloody well found 'em!"

"And he trashed my place!"

"Didn't!"

David put a restraining hand on Will's shoulder. Will fought the urge to break and run; he'd outrun the blonde sheriff once before, but her dad could tackle like a rugby fullback, and face planting on Main Street would definitely be worse than plowing into the dirt and leaves of a forest path. He decided to content himself for the moment with enhancing his 'clueless and innocent' expression.

"My keys went missing," Granny hissed, "at the same time last year when my diner looked like a bomb went off inside it," Granny kept the crossbow level to Will's chest, "and there he stands, bold as brass and full of sass, swinging the very self same keys around on his finger." She reached out and grabbed the keychain from his hand.

"All safe and sound now," he smiled disarmingly as he attempted to ease away from David's grip.

"Not so fast, smartass," Emma growled, standing next to Granny and glaring at him. "Admit it. You stole the keys and trashed the diner, didn't you?What happened, you couldn't get into the cash register?" His face closed, and he smiled back at her defiantly. "Not admittin' a thing, and you can't do anythin' about it anyway." He tried a second time to shake David's hand off, and was rewarded with a tighter grip on his jacket collar. 'It's like his hand's a bleedin' vise,' Will thought, as he searched his brain for some way out of this.

"Really? Why can't we do anything about it?" asked Emma. Will tried very hard not to look triumphant. "Oh, don't you remember?" He shot back immediately, "your mum," he nodded to David, "your wife, the mayor, she gave me that lovely pardon, she did. All me past sins forgiven and forgotten, thank you very much."

"You and Mary Margaret never did explain that one to me," Emma fumed at her father, who frowned and sighed. "It's a long story," he muttered.

Emma turned back to Will, trying to contain her fury. "Well, your past may be forgiven, but you're on our radar now, and sooner or later, you're gonna be right back in your cell."

Will cocked his head to the side, and raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Wot, you still keeping me cell available? Me very own home away from home, now, is it?" He silently congratulated himself-he'd just put one over on both the sheriffs. "I'll just be runnin' along on me way then." He tried a third time to shake off David's hand.

"Wait a minute," Granny objected, still glaring at Will, her crossbow at the ready, "pardoned or not, my place got wrecked last year, and it set me back a bundle to get it all cleaned up and repaired."

Will sighed dramatically, and tried to look truly repentant, "Well, technically speaking, I didn't participate in the damage at all. I would never do anything like that to your diner—I like your diner!"

"Well, then, who did?" David asked him. Will sighed again, this time less dramatically and with more resignation. Maybe he hadn't put one over on them after all. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

David regarded the thief coldly. "Which means that you're lying. Look," he pulled Will around to face him, "you told Robin you wanted to make amends. Does that include making amends to the whole town?" He locked eyes with Will, who shifted uncomfortably.

"You got somethin' in mind?" Will asked, dreading to hear the answer, and knowing it would not be pretty.

"How about putting your talents to good use?"

"Doin' wot?"

"We'll discuss that back at the sheriff's office." David began to lead Will down the street, Emma trailing behind.

"You arrestin' me?" Will complained indignantly. He wriggled half-heartedly but knew he would't escape from David—he hadn't been able to get away from him that day in the woods and he wouldn't be able to today, either. He was out and out caught.

David smiled, not letting go of Will's collar. "Of course not, you've got that 'lovely' pardon, remember?" With his free hand he patted the thief on the back, maybe just a little bit harder than he could have.

"Yeah, I want to know more about that," Emma commented darkly. The three headed towards the sheriff's office. "Don't worry," David called over his shoulder to Granny, who stood in front of her diner, her crossbow now at her side. "You'll be fully reimbursed for everything."

Inside the station, David shoved Will into a chair, and stood behind him, leaning on the chair back, while Emma faced him, her arms crossed. "This ain't legal," Will protested weakly. He knew he was completely trapped between two sheriffs, with no apparent way out. It just wasn't fair.

"What's not legal, a job offer?" David smiled down at him. "Job?" both Will and Emma replied together. "During your one-man crime wave earlier this year," David continued, "it became obvious that security for the town's businesses is sorely lacking. In fact," David glanced at Emma, "security right here needs some updating, from the way you popped open your cell door when you were our guest."

Will squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "Just wot' yer up to, mate?" he demanded.

David dropped his smile. "You're going to do a complete security review of the business district for us, starting right here in the jail." "Bloody 'ell!" Will exclaimed. He started to rise in protest but David quickly shoved him back down in the chair. "For which we will pay you a fair amount." "Well, that's different," Will calmed down at that. "And," David finished, "with which you will pay Granny for her troubles." "Bollocks," Will groaned, "This ain't fair, innit? It'll take forever! When do I have to start all this?"

"Right now," David answered, ignoring Emma's grimace. He gestured over Emma's shoulder. "Show us how you escaped from your cell."

Will stared up at them both, knowing he was right well stuck. He stood up slowly and slid past Emma, walked to the cell door, and glanced over his shoulder. He held up a paper clip he'd taken from the desk and started to unbend it. "This lock was popular about 100 years ago," he told them while he straightened the clip. "-used a lot in insane asylums back in England, don't you know. One tumbler, easy to flip with any long piece of metal—" He stooped down and inserted the straightened clip into the lock, then hesitated and looked over his shoulder.

"You're not gonna shove me inside when I open this, are you?" He asked apprehensively.

"No," answered David.

"Maybe," answered Emma.

He kept an eye on both of them and twisted the flattened paper clip in the lock. The door swung open almost immediately. Will stood up, stepped back from the now-opened cell, and looked at Emma. "You should have been able to open this easy," he told her, "with your skills." David stepped up to the cell door. "Do it again," he instructed, pulling the cell door closed, "and show me how to do it."

Will again slid the metal into the keyhole, wiggled it, and the door opened obediently. Watching closely, David then tried his hand at repeating Will's light-fingered touch. It took him a few minutes to get the feel of it, with Will has his unwilling teacher, until finally, he grinned from ear to ear when the door swung open under his hand.

Irritated, Emma crossed her arms and grumbled, "we can always just handcuff the criminals-" she looked pointedly at Will, "-to the bars." Will straightened up and tried a winning smile at her. "Oh, your cuffs are even easier to spring, love." "Show me," David interrupted as he detached his handcuffs from his utility belt. "Oh, please," Emma grabbed the cuffs from her father, "allow me the pleasure." She shoved Will around until she was behind him, and jerked first his left arm, then his right behind him, and snapped the cuffs tightly around his wrists. "There you go, hot shot," she stepped back.

Will spun around and locked eyes with her, his hands working furiously behind his back and out of sight of either sheriff. "You know wot I think," he smirked, "I think you really enjoyed that, didn't you? But you know, a piece of rope would be better than these things." There was a dull clang as the cuffs hit the floor behind his feet, and he pushed them to her with the toe of his boot, his eyes never leaving hers.

David grinned. "I think this arrangement is going to work out nicely; the town benefits, and you—" he clapped Will on the shoulder, "you get to make amends with everyone."

"Just wot I bloody well wanted," Will replied in resignation.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, with either David or Emma accompanying him to make sure he was behaving himself, Will grudgingly worked his way down Main Street, checking locks, recommending stronger measures at just about every stop, and even installing them. He had to cover up a smile each time he showed the good business people of Storybrooke how easily their shops could be broken into; they were always shocked to see how defenseless they had been against any crime. 'Although,' Will thought, 'it isn't like there's a lot of crime in this town.' Although it seemed like every time something went missing, he was the first one the sheriffs went looking for, the first one they shook a judgmental finger at, the first one they cuffed and tossed in the slammer. 'Of course,' he shrugged admittingly, '9 times out of 10 they were probably right.'

While the townspeople were greatly pleased with his improvements, he was always careful never to install any device that could prevent Will himself from entering a shop, if and when he ever got back to his chosen profession. But the way David and Emma kept him on a short leash, hopping every day from morning til night, it looked like his penchant for thievery would be taking a backseat for quite a while. However, he assured himself as he showed Belle the new deadbolt on the library front door, he always had hope for the future.

Belle stood behind him smiling as he tightened the last of the screws. "This here will keep your books safe enough," he said as he straightened up and turned to look at her. "Wot?" he asked as she grinned at him. "Well, you know," she said, "the only one who ever broke into the library was you. I've never had any other trouble from anyone in town; everyone else understands the concept of a lending library!" Embarrassed, Will stared down at his boots. "Not one o' me finer moments, I'll give you that." He tapped the door lightly. "But maybe we should put some bars on the windows, just in case I get drunk some night and decide I need to use a brick to get a book again." Belle's grin turned to a giggle, and Will smiled too. At least one person in town didn't seem to mind him.

Once a week, right after David counted out his pay at the station, Will sauntered down the street to the diner, strolled in, and slapped a percentage of it down on Granny's countertop. No matter where she was, Granny always turned to him as if she had radar sensors on, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, she made him squirm just by staring at him, silently daring him to make one smart remark. And, he noted, that crossbow of hers was never out of reach. For all his bravado, she was one woman he did not want to mess with. Maybe it was the way she reminded him of his best friend—tough, opinionated, and never one to back down from a fight. Each time, he suffered the older woman's steely glare, and skarpered out as quickly as he could. It was always a relief to hit the sidewalk after his weekly stop at Granny's.

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when he headed there yet again. He figured he was about halfway through paying for the damages that damned furball had caused. Will still remembered that stormy night so long ago, when the rabbit had surfaced to tell him Alice was need of her knave. Of course Will had gone with him; what else could he do when he owed Alice so much-he couldn't deny her a thing. While Rabbit's magic always repaired the holes he dug, Will couldn't figure out why it didn't take care of anything else that got broken. Granny's place was full of dishes, glasses, tables, chairs, lamps, and so on, but Rabbit's magic had pretty much ignored the shattered remnants of Granny's furniture and crockery. 'And I got pinched for the damage,' Will growled to himself, promising that if he ever saw that Rabbit again, he'd—

"Afternoon, Will," Belle's soft voice broke into his reverie, and Will spun around to see the librarian walking up behind him. "Same to you, miss," Will smiled. "You know," Belle returned his smile, "you don't have to call me 'miss,' my name is Belle." She fell in step with him as he continued on to the diner. "Well," he answered cheerfully, "I don't want to be pushin' me luck you know, such as it is." "Granny's?" she questioned. "The very same," he answered, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Makin' me weekly pay off trip right into the dragon's lair."

Belle laughed and was like music. It roused a distant memory of another woman, far away in England. Will felt a pang as he suddenly pictured his best friend. The two of them had done a lot of walking and talking in the past, a past that seemed to fade a little more every day. Would he ever see Alice again? Belle brought him back to the present when she answered, "Granny's not so bad, you just have to get on her good side." Will sighed, "and just how would I be goin' about doin' that, seein' as how I can't even seem to find it?" He kicked at the dust along the sidewalk. "Well," Belle said thoughtfully, "you have to let others see your own good side first."

Will laughed to himself. "Me own good side? Can't say if that even exists anymore, let alone show it to others. You got any books in your library about that?" Belle regarded him kindly, "Will, you don't understand!" She gestured to the buildings along the street. "You're showing it already. Look what you're doing for Storybrooke! A lot of people feel safer now since you've helped them improve their security."

They arrived at Granny's, and he held the door for her. "Are you having dinner?" she asked cheerily. Will shook his head. "Nope, just payin' a wee bit more down on my bill, then I'm off." He glanced towards the kitchen area, where he could hear Granny's voice fussing behind the counter at the coffee machine. "Damn coffee maker," she grumbled, "why won't you heat water?" Belle took a seat at a booth while Will slid over to the counter and watched as Granny poked and prodded at the ancient machine on the back shelf.

"No one buying cold coffee then?" He quipped, leaning his elbows on the counter, only to wince at her withering look. Strands of her hair hung over her face, and frown lines marked her forehead as she wiped at her eyes. "I don't need your sass, Scarlet," she intoned, "I'm busy with this blamed piece of junk."

"Here," he cautiously eased behind the counter next to her, "Let me have a go at it." She grudgingly stepped back, wiping her hands on a dish towel. He looked at the machine's innards, reached around to the side and unplugged it, then started fiddling with the wiring while Granny stood at his shoulder, watching intently. Finally he glanced at her. "You know, ya bloody well don't need to be breathin' down me neck while I'm working here, it ain't like I'll make off with the whole bleedin' machine, ya know."

"Oh, I'm keeping both eyes on you. You better not swipe even one sugar packet from the tray, Mr. Sticky Fingers," Granny shot back.

Will stopped working and looked at her wide-eyed. "Really? Mr. Sticky Fingers? Is that the best you can do when referring to a dangerous bloke like meself?"

"Oh," muttered Granny, "I could do better all right. I'd like to blister you up one side and down the other." Will tried to open his eyes even wider while he worked, and look as innocent as he possibly could. "Well, now, that kind of rubbish ain't fit to come out of a lady like yourself," he answered as sincerely as he could.

"Don't try that charm on me!" she retorted, narrowing her eyes and tucking another errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"Charm?" he grinned, knowing he was egging her on but enjoying it immensely, "wot, you think I'm charming? More charming than our charming sheriff?" He tried not to smile as she sputtered in anger, instead focusing intently on the coffee maker.

"You hooligan! You just keep—" Granny stopped in mid-sentence when Will reached around, pushed the plug back into the outlet, and flipped the 'on' switch. "Give it a go now," he interrupted her. In less than a minute the hot water was steaming through the coffee filter. She stared first at the coffee maker and then at him as he headed out. Belle gave him a wide smile, which he returned with a wink and a nod. Granny reluctantly called out a "Thank you" to him when he reached the door. He waved a salute without looking back, and disappeared into the evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Suddenly business owners all over town were asking Will for repair help with machinery that seemed to be beyond the scope of the former Enchanted Forest residents. He replaced the battery in Killian's phone, pointing out that rapping it sharply with a large metal hook was not an effective method of repair, and in fact caused more damage than aid. He repaired a leaky fuel line so Mary Margaret wouldn't have to listen to people complain about the lack of power throughout the town at odd times during the day and night. He set Dr. Hopper up with a state of the art recording device so Archie wouldn't have to rely on taking notes by hand when in consultation with his patients, although Will suspected that Archie might also somehow find personal uses for it; he'd seen how the doctor looked at Ruby when he visited the diner. Will even spent half a day working on the engine of Leroy's van while Leroy stood around and complained about everything. At one point, when Leroy decided to 'help' Will by yanking loose some wires to the distributor cap, Will thought strongly about throttling the dwarf; but he knew it would just send Leroy running through the streets screaming, "We're under attack!" and Will didn't want to have to explain that to anyone.

At the end of one very busy day, Will dragged into the station to find both sheriffs at their desks. "Oi! How much longer do I have to go at this?" he demanded.

David was knee deep in paperwork and ignored him. But Emma glared up. "You quitting?" she smirked, "Because you haven't quite paid Granny off yet, and your room's always ready for you if you want to quit." They both glanced at the new deadbolt locks on the cell doors.

Will sighed. "That's your answer to everything, innit? Toss me in the old jail cell." "Yeah," she replied, "a jail cell you can't break out of this time." Will hung his head and forced a defeated look on his face, fighting a grin, because he knew deep down he could probably pick those new locks just like he had the old; after all, he WAS Will Scarlet.

"So wot's really the deal, here?" he asked her. "You still mad I ruined your date with the pirate, or that I walked right through those bars, or that your mum gave me that lovely pardon—"Emma stood up to face him. "I don't like thieves," she spat. "I'm the sheriff because I don't like villains, evil, bad guys, or people like you who destroy what others have worked honestly and hard to achieve." Unrepentant, Will raised his voice. "If it weren't for people like me," he pointed out, "people like you wouldn't have a bleedin' job."

"And if YOU had a 'bleedin'' job, MY 'bleedin'' job would be SO much easier!"

Will shrugged and glanced away. "I told you the first time I met ya I had always been a thief, was always gonna be a thief."

"You could be more," David's voice, though quiet, cut through the tension. "Nothing's written in stone." Will and Emma both stared at him as he rose from his desk. "I mean, I was some nobody peasant farmer, my wife was a bandit, you know Emma can pop some locks almost as well as you can, and even Killian has changed."

Will was speechless. He already knew most of this, and a small part of his brain was trying to picture Mayor Blanchard as a bandit. His defenses went down for just a moment, and he seriously considered telling both of them about Anastasia, about how much he missed her, how heavy his heart was over being so far away from her, and how hopeless he considered himself right now. But he couldn't find the words. He stood mute, his eyes on David as if some kind of understanding might be passing between them.

"Get out," Emma finally said, "We'll see you tomorrow. And don't think about being late."

The next morning, the fall chill was apparent as Will half walked, half jogged down the street. David didn't usually mind if he was a few minutes late, but Emma would always make a big deal out of him being even one minute tardy. He hoped against hope she had forgotten or decided to ignore their confrontation of last night. He burst in through the door right on time, pulling up short at her scowling face. "Just under the wire, right?" Will greeted her, as he cheerfully shoved his hands into his pockets. "So what's my penance today?"

She held up a sheaf of papers, "North Main Street, the bay side, but I have a question for you." She turned away from him, acting casual, as she slid the papers into a black folder.

Outwardly he was calm, but he had a sinking feeling inside. Did she want to step back into their argument from yesterday? He waited, absentmindedly rubbing his palms on his jeans.

"Granny said you fixed her coffeemaker," she threw out the statement casually, giving him a sidelong glance.

"So?" He knew she was after something, and he thought he could vaguely see where this was going.

"Leroy told me you replaced a part on his van engine for him. Said it was a pretty tricky job."

He shrugged and jammed his hands in his jacket. "Again, so?"

"And Killian's phone battery is working properly again."

"Well, with a bloody hook for a hand, he does need to be a wee bit more careful."

She turned to face him completely, watching his face for any reaction. "In fact, I have reports from a lot of people who tell me you've been really good about helping them cope with their modern devices. You came from the Enchanted Forest with all of us during the second curse, right; so how do you know so much about the latest technology?"

Will regarded her, folding his arms over his chest. "'Scuse me," he replied with all the dignity he could muster, ""Is this an official interrogation, Sheriff, because I don't think fixing a coffee maker is a criminal offense."

"Just answer the question, smartass. Where did you learn to fix all these things? Were you in Storybrooke before the last curse?"

"You know," Will took a step forward into her space, deciding to push a few of her buttons, "you haven't liked me since the day I outran you in the forest near Robin's camp. If it hadn't been for your dear old dad, you would never have caught up with me." The color rose in her face, but he continued, "But me private business is just that, bloody well private. How I can fix anything has nothin' to do with our current arrangement here."

Emma smiled, but her eyes seemed to shoot sparks. "Someday, you're gonna slip up and I'm going to be right there to nail you." Will looked around, trying to avoid her laser glare. He wished he could stand up to it, but it was downright intimidating and always unsettled him. He took a tentative step backwards. "Right then," he answered, "North Main, is it?"

David decided to join Will after lunch, and they walked down the east side of Main. Will was relieved that he didn't have to partner up with Emma this time. "By the way," David asked as they waved to Belle at the library, "I wanted to know your place of residence."

"Me wot?" Will knew full well what David wanted. "Where you live." They continued their pace, not too slow but not rushed, and Will tried not to tense up. 'Keep it light,' he thought.

"Ah. Well, there's this nice cozy jail cell that seems to be reserved just for me, whenever I want it."

David smiled; he was beginning to like this thief a little-just a little, even if he was being deliberately evasive. "I can always follow you home at the end of the day, you know," David observed.

"If you can keep up," Will grinned.

David shrugged, "If I can't, I can turn Emma loose to track you down."

Will shook his head, "Oi, you would do that, too. She's like a bleedin' dog with a bone—no offense, o' course."

David laughed, "None taken." He was proud of his daughter's talent for law enforcement. "But seriously, you take off somewhere when we finish for the day—you do have a place to go to, right?"

Will was definitely thrown by this line of questioning. Was the sheriff truly concerned about him? They walked along in silence for a short while, but Will knew he had to give some kind of answer. "Look, Sheriff, I show up on time, I'm not under arrest, I'm behavin' meself—"

"As far as we know," David interjected.

Will smiled inwardly, "Well, that hurts," he claimed, his eyes wide and innocent, "it truly does. 'Ere I am, pretty much Granny's indentured servant, payin' off bloody damages I didn't even cause, and you don't trust me."

David glanced at him. "About Granny's place, I remember how it looked, like an earthquake or something had struck right under it." Will was silent. "You were there, weren't you, Will." It was a statement, not a question, for David was positive about this. Will's insides were churning. How could he explain about the rabbit, about Alice, about-. Finally, David slowed to a stop. "You know, a man tries to hold too many secrets in and they tend to blow up in his face all at the same time."

More silence, then Will shrugged and muttered, "Ya don't need to worry about me, mate, I can always find a rabbit 'ole to jump into."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
It took three long months, but Will was finally ready to make the last payment to Granny. Walking down Main Street towards her diner, he was not as elated to get out from under the sheriffs' thumbs as he thought he'd be. Sure, he didn't have to report every morning at an ungodly hour to Emma and David, he didn't have to tramp around the town with them making nice with the townspeople, and he didn't have to listen to Emma tell him what a loser he was. But he had to admit there had been a few benefits…

"Hey, there!" Leroy called as he slowed his truck to a crawl beside Will. "Still runnin' like a dream," he grinned as he patted the steering wheel affectionately. "Wot'd you expect," Will returned the grin, "it was some o' me best work." "Good thing," Leroy answered, "you never know when I'll need these wheels to warn the town of danger!"

As Leroy drove on down the street, Tom popped out of his pharmacy. "Good morning, Mr. Scarlet," he greeted him with a small self-conscious bow. "How's it goin'," Will answered, and shook the hand Tom held out to him. Tom suddenly jerked his hand away and threw his arm across his face as a sneeze erupted from deep within that shook him right down to his shoes. "Well, bless ya!" Will called as he continued on his way. Further along, he glanced inside the Chop Shop, to see Bo watching him go by as she whacked at a side of beef with a huge bloody cleaver. Will shuddered a little and kept up his pace; that woman was one to avoid.

"Watch out there, Will!" A voice brought Will back to the present as he almost collided with a man coming the opposite direction. It was Dr. Hopper, who was out for a walk with Pongo, although it was hard to tell just who was walking whom. Pongo lunged and jumped around them both, almost entangling them in the leash the doctor gripped. Pongo finally pulled to a stop and started to sniff Will's shoes and pantlegs. "Down, Pongo!" Hopper commanded, to no avail. "Sorry, he always does this when he thinks he smells a rabbit." Will reached down to scratch the dalmation's head. "There's a good lad," Will told him, as Pongo's tongue lolled out appreciatively. "Keep an eye on this 'un," he told the doctor, "or he'll go dragging ya all over kingdom come searchin' for rabbit holes."

As the doctor and his dog continued back the way Will had come, Will thought about the scene earlier at the sheriff's station. "The day you've been waiting for," David had said as he counted out Will's final salary for his work. "How's it feel to be finished with this?" Will shrugged as he tucked the roll of bills into his jeans pocket. "Dunno," he replied, "Weren't as bad as I thought it would be."

Emma looked up from her desk where she sat, sorting through another box of files from the library. "Honest work never is," she told him. Both sheriffs regarded the thief, and Will knew what they were both thinking, was he still a thief or now a former thief? Was he still trouble? Would they soon be chasing him again for some transgression? Will didn't even know the answer to that one himself. He'd always been a loner, a rolling stone. But he had always been loyal to those he cared about, and tried to keep to a moral code. Did he care about the people of Storybrooke now, enough to let loyalty overtake thievery?

"Will!" Another voice broke through his reverie, and he smiled to see Belle crossing the street to join him. She linked her hand around his arm as they continued to walk. It felt natural, he realized with a mild shock. "So today's the day," she smiled up at him. "Yep, finally over," he answered. "Things have changed so much," she continued, "some for the better, some for the—" She stopped and he knew she was thinking of her husband, the man who'd claimed to have loved her then did despicable things behind her back. The smile faltered on her face and she stared at her shoes. "Come on, love," he lifted her chin up with his index finger. "Everythin' changes, all the time. Good, bad, we gotta face every bloody one." Belle sighed, and Will continued, "It hurts, it does. But you're a strong lass, I know you are." They had stopped in front of Granny's, and she looked up at him. He was frozen for a moment, he couldn't take his eye from her face, a face that seemed to radiate goodness and innocence. 'And she's with a man like Gold—' he thought as his head seemed to move down towards hers of its own accord.

"Hey!" Ruby's voice cut through the moment, and Belle and Will both turned to see her standing in the doorway of the diner. The wolfish grin on the redhead's face made Belle's cheeks turn quite pink, and she let go of Will's arm. "I-I need to get down to-the shoppe," she stuttered, "I'll see you later, Will. She spun to walk away. "Bye Ruby," she called as she headed to Gold's.

Will slid through the door past Ruby, who let out a low growl from the back of her throat, and she winked slyly at him as he went by. Once inside, he intended to drop the money on the counter and hightail it out the door, but Granny popped out of the kitchen and called to him, "Hey, you! Come look at my ice maker—it's not working right!"

Will sighed. Was he the only one in Storybrooke who understood modern machinery, who'd made an effort to understand this modern life, or were all these broken gadgets just a ploy to try to keep him on the straight and narrow? Even worse, after he'd reconnected her compressor, and made sure she didn't have any leaks in the line, Granny had actually smiled at him and invited him to sit down for a slice of apple pie, on the house. Well, maybe ordered him to sit down was a better description, and when she walked back to the kitchen after depositing the plate in front of him, he gingerly lifted the top crust with his fork. He knew all about Enchanted Forest apples.

Sauntering down the street a half hour later, his stomach full, he kept a lookout for the sheriffs or anyone who might know the sheriffs. A few blocks south of the library, he glanced around again and then stepped into a shadowy alleyway, went around the back of the wooden structure, and headed along the coast for the docks. After a few minutes keeping to the dark side of buildings, he did a bit of backtracking to make sure he was not being followed. He spent a good 40 minutes moving through side streets and hugging the tree lines before he finally ducked into a small rundown building. He had managed to keep his apartment location a secret from the Charmings, and he didn't need them pounding on his door now.

Once inside he slid the deadbolt back in place, and made his way to the living room. If the outside of the building was rundown, the inside was downright shabby, but he didn't care. He lived there but it wasn't his home, not really. Skirting around boxes stacked in a pile, he flopped down in the only chair in the place, a brown overstuffed lump that had clearly been around since Victorian England. He propped his feet up on a box and closed his eyes, trying to figure out what to do next. He had that blessed bloody pardon, which the mayor didn't realize included every box here in the apartment, all filled with stolen goods he'd pinched before she cleared him of his misdeeds. But there was the catch; he knew deep in his heart, if he sold any of his stored up stolen loot now, he was committing a crime not covered by the mayor's decree. A sigh seemed to come from his very toes. The whole ice wall problem had kept him from moving his merchandise out of town, but even now that the ice was gone, he wasn't sure he could get it all safely to his buyer, or if the buyer would even turn up again. Too many people in Storybrooke knew who he was, a definite hindrance in his line of work. He had always been a thief, and thought he was always gonna be a thief, but he'd spent too much time lately outside of his chosen profession, and way too much time hanging out with the sheriffs, the townspeople—and Belle.

He slid down lower in the chair, feeling drowsy. He had desperately wanted out of this town so much, out to stay. He had missed everything about his old life. Thoughts of Anastasia stole slyly into his brain, how her gold hair swirled around her shoulders, how her lips pouted and parted in laughter, how her eyes sparkled as only they could. He hadn't been able to figure out how the hell he could ever get back home. Knowing Ana was probably crushed about his failure to turn up made his heart hang like a stone in his chest. Why was it just his luck the bleedin' curse had caught him again? Maybe she'd think he disappeared on purpose; deserted her right before their wedding. He'd hoped that she would send the rabbit to search for him, and he hoped even more that the rabbit would have the sense to check Storybrooke first. But the magic mirror hadn't been able to open a portal back to Wonderland when he first found himself back here, because of the ice wall curse. Maybe the rabbit had tried too, and given it up as impossible. Another sigh escaped him. Now he couldn't remember where he'd buried his damned bloody traveling bag out there in the sand, so he couldn't use the magic mirror again if he wanted to. Why were negative thoughts so easy to take root in his brain, while the positive thoughts never stayed long enough to matter?

Sometimes he hoped she would forget him and move on, since it seemed as if he would never escape this bloody town. But he always thought he could never forget her. Ana was his life, his heart, and his soul. Nothing, not magic, not whiskey, not fighting, not baiting the sheriffs, could dull his pain over losing her, even for a short while.

He hadn't been doing much drinking or fighting lately, thanks to the bloody Sheriff Charming father and daughter making him pay for damages the rabbit had caused. Instead, he'd been surrounded, outnumbered. Despite his best efforts, he had adjusted to Storybrooke. He knew the people, he had helped them, he was becoming a part of the town instead of apart from it. He thought he wanted to go home, but today he wondered if there was anything still waiting for him back in Wonderland. He didn't know where else to go, and he felt so exposed here, exposed to the people, exposed to their friendship, exposed to their acceptance, exposed to—Belle's face suddenly filled his brain.

Bloody 'ell! He preferred to keep his secrets, as heavy as they were, rather than share them and lessen his load. Now he was struggling to keep his feelings inside rather than sharing them with anyone; it was wearing him out. He slowly pulled himself out of the chair and stumbled towards the small bedroom, pausing in the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey. He poured half the bottle down his throat, kicked his boots off and fell face first onto the bed. If he was going back to his chosen profession, he had to start sleeping during the day again. If he was going to face the bloody changes and be as strong as he'd told Belle she could be, well…he drifted off to sleep.

Emma and David were wrapping up a day's work at the station. Emma shoved the last of the case folders into the file cabinet and glanced at her father, who was gathering up the mess on his desk into some semblance of order. "So what do you think?" she asked him. He looked up at her and frowned. "About what?" She stood in front of him and folded her arms over her chest. "Will Scarlet. You think he's changed, or will we find him drunk and passed out in some store tomorrow morning?"

David stood up and moved around his desk to join her, and they headed for the door. "I can't answer that one," he conceded. "I tried to show him what he could do in this town if he stayed out of trouble, tried to show him he has worth. He's made a few friends now, a few connections to the town. Maybe it will motivate him." He stopped and faced her. "Give a man the proper motivation, you never know what he might be willing to do." They shrugged into their jackets and headed home to Mary Margaret.


End file.
